


The Fastest Drabbles Alive

by EverySyllableASpark



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverySyllableASpark/pseuds/EverySyllableASpark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Flarrow drabbles as inspired by prompts on Tumblr, here if you have any for me, and things that came from my own head.  Updates will be a little sporadic as I'm about to start the full-time job search, but will definitely happen at least twice a week.  </p><p>  I'm happy to write nearly any pairing, and I'm open to most AU settings/prompts.</p><p>  Things I will, however, not write: Non-con of any kind and explicit underage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hartmon, Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> The first drabble is for a much larger/longer Hogwarts Flash AU I'm currently trying to make sense of, so be patient with me.
> 
> Setup: Fifth years Hartley and Cisco share mutual friends and interests, but absolutely loathe each other - and then one day, Cisco finds Hartley in the library and starts to wonder if there's more to arrogant jerk than he thought.

The thing that made everything about Hartley so frustrating was that Cisco didn't know why the other boy hated him so much. Like, in another world, it would be easier to brush it off as just another spoiled pureblood Slytherin thinking he was better than everyone else. Cisco knew those kind of guys, knew exactly how little attention to give them because Cisco knew he worked harder and smarter. 

Hartley, though, was neither of those things. The sorting hat placed Hartley in Ravenclaw before it even touched his head, and while he didn’t talk about his family, it didn’t take a genius (like Cisco was, for the record) to figure out that the kid whose gaze had widened in astonishment the first time someone turned a needle into a matchstick was a muggleborn.

And okay, it wasn’t like he was some kind of chosen one for Hartley’s disdain, it was spread pretty evenly across the student body, and had only grown worse this year. Whereas before he’d occasionally smiled or admitted when someone else had a good idea, even Cisco, now his mouth was a permanent sneer for everyone.

Well, everyone except Iris West, Cisco's fellow Hufflepuff who had somehow gotten past Hartley’s ice king exterior to find some kind of likable center. Or so she claimed, anyway. Cisco had serious doubts.

But while Cisco wasn’t the only one at school Hartley couldn’t stand, he did seem to be his favorite target. Not a day went by where Hartley didn’t point out some flaw in Cisco’s work or mock his casual wear or just anything he thought might needle Cisco. And the worst part was that Hartley knew exactly what nerve to hit, and he never let up until it was pinched.

Which is why when Cisco walked into the library and found Hartley with red-rimmed eyes that were only accentuated by his glasses, he considered turning around and walking away. It was what Hartley would’ve done. But Cisco’s conscience got the better of him, like it always did, and he found himself sitting across from the other boy instead. Hartley looked up at him, lips pressed into a thin line. Up close his gaze was wild, fingers clutched tight around whatever was in his hand … “Dude, is that a cell phone?”

“Yes, you unbelievable moron,” Hartley muttered under his breath, tone dripping with disdain, though it was undermined by the slight waver in his voice. Shit, whatever this was, it was bad. “Why, are you going to report me for having contraband goods? You Hufflepuffs love your rules, don’t you?”

“No, look, are you okay?” Cisco asked, meeting Hartley’s surprised look with a level gaze of his own. One of Hartley’s fingers twisted with the edge of his robes, skin unnaturally pale and peaky against the black of his robe. 

“Like you care,” Hartley answered with an undignified snort, his tone a bit firmer than before as he straightened his spine, as though daring Cisco to say anything else. His blue eyes were still red and desperate though, and for the moment he reminded Cisco more of a caged animal than anything else.

“Look, you hate me, but I don’t… I don’t like you,” Cisco began, wincing at his own words. Because yeah, Hartley was a dick, but that probably wasn’t helping. Except Hartley smirked a little, gaze growing a hair less panicked. So, apparently insults were the way to go. What a weird kid. “But look, man, that doesn’t mean I want you to be like, crying. Is it something to do with that family you never mention?”

Cisco didn’t know what brought the words to his mouth, other than his own less than ideal relationship with his family. But something in Hartley’s gaze went dark at his words, fingers again finding the way to the edge of his robe. Looked like he’d found the magic words. 

Cisco opened his mouth, but before he could ask another question, Hartley stood up abruptly. Hartley slid his contraband phone in his pants pocket and hurried towards the library door, footsteps clattering loudly against the stone floors. Cisco wanted to follow, but a feeling deep in his gut held him back. They weren’t friends. Then, as he got to the door, Hartley looked back at him, something raw and desperate in the twist of his mouth. “Trust me, you’d never understand, so don’t bother with your pity.”

And with that the door fell shut, Hartley’s words echoing in Cisco’s mind. The other boy was right, he shouldn’t bother, Hartley neither wanted nor deserved his sympathy. Dude had been a dick from the day they’d met, and he’d only been eleven then. Cisco didn’t see that puberty had made him any nicer. 

Except, there’d been something in Hartley’s gaze right before he left, sad and insecure and longing, and well - Cisco had the feeling he’d seen a little bit of what Iris saw in Hartley. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see a whole lot more of it.


	2. Westallen - First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Westallen prompt; Established relationship. Barry and Iris get into a huge fight over something, I'm not sure what though...

It had been three months since Barry finally told Iris the the truth about being the Flash. Two and a half months since Iris had forgiven him for lying to her for an entire year, and okay, in retrospect maybe he’d deserved those two weeks. And two months since Iris West first kissed him. 

They’d been in the honeymoon period ever since, or as much as a honeymoon period as they could since half their dates ended with Barry disappearing mid-way through with a rushed apology and sometimes not even that much. Iris though, always understood that his work as the Flash had to come before anything else. 

Which is why Barry didn’t get why she was so upset this time.

“Iris, look, I never wanted to put you through this,” Barry began, voice wavering as Iris crossed her arms and paced across the room for what felt like the fifth time that night, her gaze scorching whenever it turned on him. He was honestly a little terrified. “But dating me means dating this lifestyle-”

“Oh, don’t you try to argue that this is me not understanding, Barry, I’ve been understanding,” Iris snapped, turning on her heel and marching across the room until her face was inches away from his own, lips drawn into a thin line. It was rare for Iris to be genuinely mad at, well, anyone, but especially Barry. But somehow this time he’d pulled it off. “You just up and disappeared for nearly two days, Barry. You were in Starling City for three days-”

“There isn’t always time,” Barry spat out, trying to bite down the anger that was bubbling in his chest. Didn’t she get that part of being understanding was accepting that there was always going to be a chance she wouldn’t know where he was, or when he’d come back? Felicity and Diggle sure seemed to get it when it came to Oliver. And besides, didn’t she see the bigger problem here? “And sometimes keeping you safe means not telling you.”

“Oh my God, I thought we were done with that,” Iris answered with a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head before giving Barry a tight smile. Somehow he didn’t think it meant forgiveness. “I am so sick of men in my life deciding how to “keep me safe” without ever asking me. Did you ever think maybe I should be involved with the decisions you're making about my life, Barry?”

“It’s not like that, Iris,” Barry shouted, running his hands through his hair in frustration. She crossed her arms at him, raising one delicate eyebrow, any trace of her tight smile gone. She wanted to get serious? Fine, he could get serious. “I’m not making decisions for you, I’m making decisions about what I need to do as the Flash, and I can’t always be at my best if I’m worried about you or Joe or anyone else.”

“Oh but, you can tell Cisco and Caitlin - I know, I know that’s different,I do” Iris answered after a moment, some of the anger going out of her voice, but not any of the fight. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were shimmering. “But you mean to tell me, that in nearly two days, there was no way for you to contact me at all, when you can do it faster than anyone? You could’ve been killed, Barry, and I wouldn’t have even known.” 

Barry exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving him as he listened to Iris. Because okay, she did have a point. But he’d been so busy in the lab and then in the field - but there’d probably been a moment. But he still wasn’t wrong when he said there wouldn’t always be, and he didn’t really know how to get past this impasse.

Irish shook her head again, taking a step around him and towards the door. He brushed an arm against the sleeve of her jacket, but Iris brushed it aside with a small shake of her head. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, but I need to be alone for a little bit, okay, Bear?”

He nodded, not trusting himself not to say something stupid, or worse cry, and watched as she pushed out of the house and into the streets. After a moment he flopped down on the couch, resting his head against his face. 

He needed to do something to make things better, but what? 

****  
It took another three hours before Barry came up with an idea, speeding into the lab and nearly toppling Cisco over when he stopped in front of him. “Cisco, I need a communicator - or something - for Iris, so when I tell you guys where I’m going, she knows. Can you rig that up?”

“What happened to not wanting to put her in danger?” Cisco said with a small grin as he pushed a piece of his hair back. “But yeah, I can rig that up.”

“By tomorrow?” Barry asked with a hopeful grin, wincing apologetically when Cisco let out a tired sigh. Well, okay maybe tomorrow had been a little too much to hope for.

“Fine, but only because you get really impulsive and broody when Iris is mad at you,” Cisco answered, and Barry ran over and gave him a quick hug before dashing out of the lab, not wanting to distract Cisco. Tomorrow, everything would be better. 

****  
Good to his word, the next day a slightly tired looking Cisco handed Barry a pocket sized communicator for Iris. Barry texted Iris, asking if she could meet him for lunch, sighing in relief when she agreed. Thank you, God and Cisco Ramon. 

He met her at the cafe a few minutes later, smiling widely as he held out the communicator - now covered in wrapping and tied with a bow. Iris raised an eyebrow as she took her seat, though there was a small smile at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, don’t think you can win me back with gifts, Barry Allen.”

“I think this one might just do the trick,” Barry answered as confidently as he could, though he knew the tapping of his fingers against the table gave away how nervous he was. He gently placed the communicator in her hands, smiling when Iris unwrapped it and then frowned in confusion, holding it up to the light as though that might give her a sign of what it was supposed to be.

“You got me a . . . tamagotchi?” Iris asked slowly, letting out a small laugh as she met Barry’s gaze. He shook his head softly, not able to stop himself from laughing as well. “Okay, then what is it?”

“Well, clearly not one of Cisco’s better designs, visually,” Barry answered, as his laughter finally died out and he was able to look at Iris with a more serious gaze, one hand reaching out to brush against her knuckles. “It’s a communicator, set up so any time I tell Caitlin and Cisco something it lights up. It can make a little ringing sound too, but I figure you’ll want to turn that off because we kind of don’t ever stop talking once I go out as the Flash. I can’t promise you to always tell you where I am or what I’m doing, that’s not possible with the life I have now. But this means you’ll at least know I’m going. Is that enough?”

“I guess it’s going to have to be, as long as I keep dating a superhero,” Iris answered with a sigh, her smile a little bittersweet as she slid the communicator into her pocket. But when she looked back up, her gaze was warm and bright, like a million rays of light just for him. “Thank you, Barry.”

Barry leaned over the table then, softly pressing his lips against Iris’ own, sighing as he felt her hands gently brush through his hair, his right hand coming up to rest against her cheek. It was never going to be easy, balancing a love life and the superhero life. But when he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, he knew he and Iris could do it.


	3. Hartmon - One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paraphrased Prompt: Hartley and Cisco, canon-au with post-redemption Hartley and established Westallen. Iris and Barry advise Hartley and Cisco about their most recent fight, and somehow it ends up with Cisco being in Hartley's bed.
> 
> Warning: Explicit sexual content in this chapter.

Hartley rolled his eyes as Cisco walked past him wordlessly for the third time that day, which amounted to three days of silent treatment. It was unsettling at best. In the six months since Hartley had helped them defeat Wells and somehow joined their makeshift team, he and Cisco had fallen into a marginally healthier version of their old relationship. 

Of course, they still argued all the time and Hartley still thought Cisco had horrendous taste, but there was a certain fondness to their insults now. Hartley respected Cisco’s brilliance and loyalty. And Cisco, well, honestly Hartley wasn’t sure Cisco liked him more so much as he was relieved that Hartley didn’t mock his shirts, but that would have to be enough. 

Not that Hartley cared about Cisco’s opinion of him, but he didn’t want to get exiled from the lab and lose all the new ideas he had for improvements on the suits just because he hurt Cisco’s precious feelings. 

Which was part of what made this silent treatment so frustrating. Normally, he and Cisco would have gotten into two separate arguments by now. Today, nothing.

The worst part of it all, though? Hartley hadn’t even said anything cruel or committed any criminal acts. No, he’d kept his promises, except one. And apparently, Cisco didn’t want to have to look at the Pied Piper under any circumstances, even if it meant leaving Barry dangling on the thin line between life and death. So, yeah, Cisco hadn’t spoken to him in three days because he’d saved Barry’s life. So much for their budding friendship.

Hartley turned back to the theoretical blueprints, frowning slightly at the designs and wondering if he’d jumped too many steps ahead. It wasn’t as though he needed Cisco’s help, he frankly didn’t need anyone in this lab’s aid, but he had a tendency to think in advance, or “big picture” as Cisco once described it. Whereas Cisco focused in on the details and the day to day building procedures, so sometimes his second opinion could be of use.

He tossed them aside with a huff when he couldn’t place what was making him anxious about the plans, catching Cisco’s gaze out of the corner of his eye. Cisco quickly turned away, walking out of the lab and down the hallway. Wordlessly. 

Hartley had learned to accept the silence many times before, but he couldn’t do it again. So he texted the only person in his life with any social skills, and prayed that she would have an answer for him.

God knows that at least she’d have words.

****

“Okay, so the issue is that Cisco isn’t talking to you, have you tried talking to him?” Iris asked over her cup of coffee, cocking her head slightly when Hartley raised at an eyebrow at her in disbelief. “Don’t give me that look, as one of the few people who like you enough-”

“Caitlin likes me,” Hartley objected with a small frown, peering at Iris over his glasses.

“She tolerates you,” Iris corrected with a wave of her hand as she took a bite of her croissant. Hartley's frown grew deeper, an expression that could almost be mistaken for a pout, if Hartley Rathaway were the type of person to do that. He wondered if Iris would still like him if she knew all the reasons Caitlin still only tolerated him after months of working together again. Somehow he doubted it, and that was enough to mean he’d never say. “Besides, even if she does, that’s not the point. What I’m asking is, have you tried to talk to him since he stopped talking to you?”

“I insulted his Firefly tee shirt and asked him if he had any new thoughts about the last round of upgrades we did. He didn’t respond to the first, and the second he answered through a politely worded email,” Hartley muttered, voice dripping with disdain on the last word. He took a sip of his latte, swallowing a little tightly when Iris laughed at him. “What’s so funny?”

“I meant about what’s going on between you, not your version of small talk, also you like Firefly,” Iris said with a grin, eyes just a little too bright. It was the same expression he’d caught her making at puppies a few times, and Hartley felt deeply insulted. 

“Insults and science is about as far as my repertoire with Cisco goes,” Hartley answered with a small scoff, running his free hand through his hair. Iris shook her head at that, taking another bite of her croissant and glancing at him like she was waiting for him to elaborate. “What?”

“Hartley, if all there was to your and Cisco’s relationship was a shared mild dislike of each other and a shared interest in physics, you wouldn’t care that he was ignoring you, and he wouldn’t have started doing it over you suiting up again,” Iris explained as her eyes bored into him, as though she was trying to implant some kind of information into his brain via her gaze. It was failing, if that was her intention. “Look, do you remember when you first started working at S.T.A.R. Labs, and Barry and I hadn’t admitted how we felt to each other yet, but it was obvious to everyone else?”

“Yes, I lost twenty bucks to your father beca- I don’t like Cisco Ramon, Iris, why you would you even think that?” Hartley spluttered, suddenly catching onto her meaning.

“Hmm, I don’t know, because you’re absolutely obsessed with him?” Iris suggested with a small shrug, and Hartley let out another scoff, because him, obsessed with graphic tee wearing, pop culture loving Cisco? It was ridiculous. “Every time we meet up for lunch, you spend at least half of it complaining about what he wore, or explaining what “halfway decent” work he did that you obviously really thought was brilliant, how many bad movie references he makes even though you know them so clearly -”

“I’ve caught on to where you’re going with this, thank you, Iris,” Hartley interrupted her as he stood up with a sigh, glancing over his shoulder in case somehow Barry or Caitlin or God forbid, Cisco had come in at exactly the wrong moment. Thankfully the cafe was empty. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work and away from your ridiculous theories.”

Iris yelled out a goodbye, and Hartley gave her a brief wave over his shoulder, not wanting to glance back and see the knowing look on her face. He didn’t have feelings for Cisco, the mere idea was making his stomach turn and his face heat up in annoyance, cheeks flushing. Though even Hartley couldn’t deny that the reflection he saw in the glass doors as he walked out had a very different expression on his face than anger. One Hartley never thought he’d see on his face again, after Harrison.

****  
Cisco grinned widely when Barry walked in with several boxes of pizza, handing Cisco the smallest one and sitting the 12 large boxes next to himself. It faded pretty quickly when Barry gave him his serious face, the kind he used when breaking bad news to Iris or admitting he’d done something wrong to Caitlin. Oh, God. “What’s wrong, are you okay? Did you ruin our suit?”

“What? No, no, I’m not here to talk to you about anything that serious, though I’m glad you finally acknowledged the suit was ours,” Barry said with a lopsided grin. Cisco didn’t have the heart to tell him that the “our” he was referring to was him and Hartley. Barry had been heartbroken enough when he’d found that Hartley had designed the suit for Chip the fireman, the least terrible of Hartley’s many terrible ex-boyfriends, and not for him. “No, I’m here to talk to you about Hartley.”

“What, that he’s a cold-hearted dick who can’t keep any of his promises?” Cisco mumbled with a snort, pulling a slice of pizza out of the box and stuffing it in his mouth.

“No, because the Hartley you’re referring to reformed and became a loyal, secretly kind of caring jerk with a heart of gold,” Barry answered, a hint of teasing in his voice. Cisco wanted to point out that using TV Tropes wasn’t like, the best way to win an argument with him, since he definitely knew them better than Barry, but the pizza kind of stopped him. “Now, why after months of getting along you’ve decided he’s betrayed you by saving my life, I don’t know.”

“He promised he wouldn’t put the gloves or the hood back on, Barry, it was the first condition for him working with us, or do you not remember?” Cisco asked dryly, arms crossed tightly across his chest as he looked down on the floor.

“Yeah, but that was for if he went on another revenge bender?” Barry reminded Cisco, raising his eyebrows with a wry grin. He had the feeling he was being mocked. “Are you saying trying to save my life and stopping the Weather Wizard was a bad thing?”

“No, obviously not, I’m saying he should’ve talked to us about it first,” Cisco snapped as he took another bite of pizza, ripping the crust furiously. Fuck Hartley so much. “We’re a team, he should check with us before deciding it’s okay to don his old villain costume.”

“I mean, his new hood was green,” Barry answered softly, and Cisco shot him the coldest look he was capable of, which seemed to have no effect on Barry. “And yeah, you’re right, he probably should’ve, but I never have before running off, and you’ve had your moments too. With the exception of Caitlin, we’re kind of team reckless, and it’s not fair to hold it against just Hartley.”

“Yeah, well you never lied to me you about not fighting crime,” Cisco sniffed, and yeah, okay, even he thought he might be being a little irrational right now. “Look, I don’t like him-”

“Oh, well now you’re the one who’s lying,” Barry said with a small laugh, and Cisco dropped the slice of pizza back into the box. He didn’t want to be eating when it sounded like Barry was about to say something that would make him choke on it. “You definitely like Hartley, you guys spend all day together, half the time you get lunch together, you do every project together, you somehow convinced him to watch all of Harry Potter -”

“We spend all day together because we’re working on those projects, which we do together, because yes he is better at the theoretical thinking and big picture aspects, and I’m better at the details and actually making things useful. We make a good team once I get past what a dick he can be,” Cisco explained with a sigh, because of course Barry was the type of friend who’d want to play terrible matchmaker. “And I showed him Harry Potter because he was a deprived child and I’m not a monster. It doesn’t mean I still don’t think he’s a dick with no redeeming qualities.”

“Well, he just saved my life. Also, I've seen the way your eyes light up when he actually smiles,” Barry told him pointedly, pulling himself upright and grabbing his twelve unopened boxes of pizza. This had never been a lunch date at all, it’d been an ambush. “Now, if you’re willing to think at all about what I said, Hartley should be coming back soon, maybe try talking to him before he leaves the building tonight.”

“Yeah, but a year ago he tried to kill you,” Cisco shouted as with that Barry dashed out of the room, leaving Cisco alone to stew with his thoughts.

****

Later that night in the lab, Cisco was still mulling over Barry’s words, glancing at Hartley over his shoulder every few minutes. They were the only two left at the lab. Barry had finished his daily check of the city and left early for a date with Iris, and Caitlin was meeting Ronnie out of town for a weekend getaway, so it was just them and their silence. Cisco hadn’t realized how obnoxious it was until that exact moment. “It’s the wiring, you need to figure out-”

“If you wanted to help with that project, you should have said something when I was looking at it three hours ago, your help is neither needed nor appreciated,” Hartley answered coolly, smirking at Cisco from where he was leaning against his desk. “Is there a reason you’re still here?”

“Is there a reason you are?” Cisco said with a frown, sighing when Hartley only rolled his shoulders in reply, cocking his head a little as he glanced over at him. It reeked of that infuriating smugness that Hartley had mostly clamped down since his return from the dark side. Before he could stop himself, he’d stormed over to stand in front of Hartley, slamming one hand flat against the desk in annoyance. 

“Cisco, I know you’ve decided you don’t want to be friends, but that’s no reason to take it out on the furniture,” Hartley said wryly, scrunching his nose a little as he talked. It was - no, he was not about to call the other man cute. “Look, I don’t know why you’re so mad, and normally when I piss you off it’s very much on purpose.”

Cisco let out a groan, giving Hartley a tight glare. Hartley merely smiled, somehow perfectly calm, like Cisco was the only one who felt the tension in the room right now, weighing down so heavily it could easily crush everything in here, never mind the desk. “You promised all of us that you wouldn’t go rogue again-”

“And I didn’t, I merely repurposed my old costume and weaponry to help The Flash. would you prefer I let him suffer?” Hartley asked, tone cool and condescending. But there was a spark in his eyes, a light that Cisco saw there all the time and never felt brave enough to seek out. Well, there was a first time for everything.

“No, but part of being on a team means talking to us before you make stupid choices like that,” Cisco snapped, taking a step forward until there was almost no space left between them. Hartley’s lips parted in surprise, eyes wide, and Cisco frowned at the stirring in the pit of his stomach, because yeah, that was not how he felt about Hartley in this or any universe. “Do you realize how easily you could’ve been killed?”

Hartley pressed his head back against the wall, revealing the full line of his pale neck, his smirk just a little less condescending than it had been a moment before. “You never make that complaint to Barry.”

“Barry has superhuman speed and healing, you have gloves, and if anyone manages to get them off, you’re what, 5’7” and 140 lbs? Anyone could take you, let alone metahumans and high level criminals,” Cisco said, voice rising until he was shouting, hands coming up to press against Hartley’s shoulders. Hartley had brought his head back up from the wall, gaze curious and angry and mocking - no, he wanted to look mocking, but it wasn’t that, it was. . . hopeful. For what, Cisco didn’t know. 

“Why do you care?” Hartley snapped, some of the heat from his gaze sliding into his voice as he pushed on Cisco’s chest, but Cisco refused to budge. “C’mon, Cisquito, why would you possibly care if some metahuman ended up snapping my-”

Hartley never got to finish that sentence, because Cisco suddenly pressed his lips against Hartley’s own, tongue pushing insistently. Hartley parted his lips eagerly, his hands clutching onto Cisco’s shirt. Their tongues warred for dominance for a few moments before Hartley, to Cisco’s complete shock, let him take over, pushing Hartley back up against the wall with ease.

After a moment, he pushed his knee between Hartley’s legs and grinded against him. Hartley moaned softly into his mouth, wrapping one leg around Cisco’s waist, and Cisco kissed him more desperately than before, because as long as he focused on Hartley’s sinful mouth and his own half hard dick, he didn’t have to think about what this meant or how it had come to happen.

So of course Hartley, that incredible jerk, pulled away from him, leaning his head back against the wall and letting out a sound that was a strange mixture of laughter and panting. Cisco did not find it sexy, and he didn’t find it cute when Hartley straightened his crooked glasses. “As much as I like this turn of events, I’d prefer if it didn’t happen at the lab.”

“Too tawdry for you?” Cisco asked with a smirk, tone half condescending and half teasing. 

“Too many memories,” Hartley said, gaze far away for a moment, and Cisco felt guilty, fingers coming up to brush Hartley’s cheek. “Don’t you dare pity me, he had you in the dark longer than me.”

And with that Hartley turned and walked out of the lab, gesturing for Cisco to follow him with a flick of his wrist. Cisco would’ve found it insulting under normal circumstances, did now, but he followed anyway.

It was only a few blocks to Hartley’s apartment, a small but clean one bedroom. Hartley gestured for him to come inside with a sweeping motion, raising an eyebrow as though daring Cisco to say something about the size. He wondered how many people had, not fully understanding the definition of disowned. “So, we should talk-”

“I didn’t invite you over to talk, Cisco,” Hartley said with a teasing smile, licking his lips as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “So, you can come over here and finished what you started, or you can walk out the door so I can go pick someone else up.”

“That how you find all your winner ex-boyfriends? Trolling the bars?” Cisco called as he walked across the room to where Hartley was standing. Hartley quirked his lips into a smirk, as though daring Cisco to make a move. Cisco reached a hand up and pulled off Hartley’s glasses, gently folding them and setting them on the end table. 

Then he lunged forward, catching Hartley’s mouth in a bruising kiss. He felt Hartley’s fingers pulling on the edge of his shirt and he broke the kiss to help him toss it aside, hitting the ground behind them with a small thud. “Why do you care how I found them? It’s not like this is anything more than a one-night stand you’ll pretend never happened.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Cisco murmured against Hartley’s neck as he started undoing the buttons of his shirt, smiling at the smooth lines of ivory muscle being revealed to him inch by inch. He reached his hands back to Hartley’s shoulders, pushing the shirt down his arms and onto the floor to join his own, and then pressed a delicate kiss on the crook of Hartley’s neck.

“Why would you possibly want it to be more?” Hartley whispered, his own hands running down Cisco’s chest, fingers deftly teasing a nipple in a way that made Cisco let out a drawn out moan. “As excellent as you’re about to find out I am in bed, I’m not exactly what you’d deem boyfriend material.”

It was a. . . fair question, because honestly, even if he’d learned to regret attempting murder and damaging public property and made amends with Barry, Hartley was still rude and condescending and moody. 

But sometimes, like when he went out to save Barry or got excited about a new design plan or even just when Cisco caught him smiling at Iris, he almost seemed human. . And every once in awhile, Cisco would catch him glancing at Dr. Wells’ old office, gaze lost and vulnerable, and he remembered that underneath all that rage and disdain, Hartley was fragile. And that, that wasn’t a good reason to be attracted to him, like it was genuinely a fucked up way to think. He couldn’t fix him, Cisco knew that. But maybe he could be there while Hartley fixed himself, maybe that could be enough, if Hartley would let him.

But now, with Hartley’s teeth worrying at his neck and his own hands pressing against his back and pulling Hartley closer, wasn’t the time to think about it. No, right now all Cisco would concentrate on was the feel of Hartley’s hands sliding around to grip his hips as he pulled him back through the apartment and towards the bedroom door.

Once inside, Hartley stepped and smirked, fingers deftly undoing the button on Cisco’s pants and pulling down the zipper, his hands gripping either side of the khakis - and then he stopped. “Wait, you have done this before, right? Because I’m not really interested in being your hands on bicurious educational experience.”

“Yeah, I’ve done this before, you’re not the only one who’s picked up questionable men at bars,” Cisco whispered, slightly annoyed at Hartley’s assumption that he was a virgin. It faded when Cisco started pulling at his pants again. Cisco quickly kicked off his shoes, sighing as Hartley kneeled down and dragged his pants and boxers to the floor in one swift go, pulling off Cisco’s socks for good measure before taking his own shoes off. No one could say Hartley wasn’t thorough.

“Not bad, Cisco,” Hartley murmured as he glanced down, licking his lips as he did. Cisco rolled his eyes softly and reached over for Hartley’s belt, the two of them working together to pull off Hartley’s grey slacks. He was somehow both surprised and not when the other man wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

“Not so bad yourself, Rathaway,” Cisco whispered before pressing Hartley back towards the bed, fingers curling around that surprisingly firm ass. Apparently Hartley found time to work out somewhere between all those hours in the lab. “Do you have supplies?”

“Obviously,” Hartley said with a slight scoff, pushing Cisco aside so he could reach into his nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of of lube and a condom. Cisco opened his mouth, but before he could ask, Hartley opened the condom and slid it on Cisco’s dick, knuckles brushing down his inner thighs as he did. Hartley leaned down and pressed his lips against the tip of Cisco’s dick, twirling his tongue in a way that could only be described as sinful. Cisco let out a low moan when Hartley’s hands brushed upwards, twisting softly. Cisco gripped Hartley’s hair tightly as the other man moved down him inch by inch. Fuck. 

“Not, that like, I don’t appreciate this - Oh God - because I clearly do, but like, I really want to fuck you,” Cisco groaned as Hartley’s laughter vibrated against his skin. He pulled his mouth away slowly, and Cisco let out a low sigh at the loss of contact, though the sight of Hartley, with wild hair and blown eyes and red, slightly puffy lips certainly helped.

“Tsk, tsk, Cisquito, no appreciation for foreplay,” Hartley sighed even as he spread his thighs and picked up the bottle of lube, pouring it over his hand and slowly pushing two fingers in and out, head tossed back like he needed to give Cisco a show. Cisco couldn’t say he didn’t like it, inching forward and biting back a low whimper at all that flesh he wasn’t getting to touch. 

Then Hartley finally pulled his fingers out, reaching towards Cisco’s shoulders as though to pull him down. Cisco didn’t know what came over him then, except maybe some subconscious preference for seeing people’s faces while he slept with them, but he grabbed Hartley’s arms and pushed them down towards the bed. Then he slid up the other man’s body, sighing when he felt Hartley’s legs instinctively wrap around his sides. “Ready?”

“Get on with it,” Hartley answered impatiently, and Cisco pushed in fully then, smiling when Hartley let out a small whimper. He didn’t move for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of that tight heat around him and the small, needy noises a flushing Hartley was making, before beginning to move.

He pushed in and out, Hartley pushing back against him, his hands coming up to grab at Cisco’s hair, mouth pressing tight against his shoulders as though to muffle the tiny mewls that kept slipping from his throat. Who knew Hartley would be, well, adorable in bed. “I know what you’re thinking, shut up.”

Cisco snorted at Hartley’s words and twisted his neck to capture Hartley’s mouth with his own, pumping a little faster as he deepened the kiss. He felt the other man’s hard dick pressing against his hips, pre-cum leaking against both their stomachs. He didn’t think either of them was going to last that much longer. Hartley seemed to agree by the way his fingers were clawing desperately through his hair and down his back, trying to gain some kind of purchase even as Cisco could feel him shaking from impending orgasm. “Wait, are you trying to make sure you outlast me?”

Hartley didn’t answer with anything more then a noise that sounded like a scoff being swallowed up by a moan, his fingers finally resting on Cisco’s lower back. Cisco snorted, suddenly wanting both to make Hartley come and win, and increased his pace, smiling when Hartley didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from matching it, from mewling loudly as he gripped Cisco’s back, and then -

Then Hartley came with a low moan, tossing his head back against the sheets, mouth open and bangs flopping against his face. He looked beautiful, like that. Cisco followed seconds later, letting out a low groan as he came and collapsed on top of him. 

They laid like that for a few minutes, before Cisco finally rolled over and onto the bed next to Hartley. He glanced at the other man, who was staring at the ceiling, gaze soft and, for once, guileless. Cisco leaned over and brushed his fingers through Hartley’s hair, patting down one of the cowlicks that had sprung up somewhere in between all of the sex. Hartley turned over slightly and looked at him with hooded eyes. 

Then, he smiled, one of those rare, sweet-looking smiles that Cisco normally only saw when he made a major scientific discovery. But that flash of white was gone as soon as it came, Hartley sitting up on the bed suddenly. “Do you want a drink before you go, or a shower?”

“Are, are you kicking me out?” Cisco asked, blinking in surprise as Hartley shrugged, limbs still strung out from the amazing orgasm Cisco had given him a few minutes prior. The one Hartley seemed to have already forgotten about, since he was tossing Cisco out like nothing had happened tonight. Hartley cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to look smug instead of well-fucked. “Seriously? You clearly don’t want to.”

“As though you could possibly know what I wanted. It was fun, Cisco, don’t get sentimental over nothing,” Hartley answered with a snort as he leaned against his headboard, refusing to meet Cisco’s gaze. “I’d recommend the shower, unless you want to walk home smelling like come.”

Cisco knew he should take Hartley’s advice, shower and get out of here. He and Hartley were total opposites, Hartley was angular where Cisco was soft, hard where he was yielding. It was never going to work out. Instead, he flopped back down on the bed, resting his head on his forearms and giving Hartley a wide, easy smile. “Or I could stay here and we could watch Serenity and then I could fuck you again.”

Hartley frowned at him, quirking his lips and looking ready to say no, when he suddenly stopped, fingers clutching softly against his sheets. “Fine, but after that you have to leave, and I’m kicking you out early if you cry when Wash dies.”

“You’re a soulless monster,” Cisco muttered, but with a small, triumphant smile as he moved slightly closer to Hartley, their hands brushing against each other. His smile only got wider when it took Hartley a second to pull away from him, because small victories were still victories. 

If Cisco didn’t know better, he’d almost think Hartley was smiling a little too.


	4. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Please write some Hartley/your choice with #34 (Masquerade) from that list of prompts you reblogged!

Ah, this was yesterday so I’m guessing this is for the masquerade. Full confession: My only experience with masquerade balls is an episode of Gossip Girl, so this is assuredly inaccurate.

Hartley brushed a hand over his now blond hair, scanning the room the best he could underneath his gigantic, feathered mask. The rogues needed an inside man to rob Central City’s finest art gallery, and he was the only one with enough “class” for the job.

Hartley was also the only one people would recognize, so instead of sending someone else as a distraction, he was forced to become well-acquainted with a bottle of blond hair dye and a mask that took up two thirds of his face. Whatever Len was stealing better be worth it.

At least the free champagne was high quality. Hartley took another sip of it, turning on his heel - right as another man crashed into him, knocking Hartley to the ground. Maybe Mick was right about him needing more strength training.

Hartley glanced up to find himself staring at the long dark locks and bright smile of Cisco Ramon, his mask little more than a thin black sliver. Probably trying to imitate Tuxedo Mask. As though Cisquito was anywhere near as attractive as Mamoru Chiba. “Woah, I’m so sorry, here, let me help you up.”

“Thank you,” Hartley said airily, taking Cisco’s hand. He wanted to insult the other man, but Cisco would recognize him then. Better to play nice. “And don’t worry about it, I bet everyone gets knocked off by your good looks.”

Cisco raised his eyebrows, looking a little flushed as he ran a hand down the back of his neck. “No - I, would you like to dance?”

“Of course,” Hartley answered demurely, letting Cisco take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor. He let the other man lead, luckily remembering just enough of his ballroom education to do it backwards. “I’m here for my parents, but what about you? I swear you’re the only other person in the room under sixty.”

“I like art,” Cisco answered with a small, nervous laugh. They were onto them. Well, fuck. At least Hartley would be able to get away, even if he had to break everyone out of the pipeline. Again. “Geometrics especially, I’m a scientist, actually …”

And then Cisco proceeded to ramble about things Hartley already knew for five minutes, Hartley nodding at all the right moments and asking all the right questions, pursing his lips in mock-stupidity. “Well, that’s all above my head. I’m in the Central City Orchestra, if you ever want a night out. We’re doing the music of Star Wars next month.”

“Really that sounds awesome,” Cisco said excitedly, smile so naively excited that Hartley barely kept from rolling his eyes. Instead he mimicked it, pulling back as the song ended and he caught Mick’s eye a few feet away, Hartley’s flute in hand. “Wait, maybe this is awkward of me, but can I get your number?”

“You already have it,” Hartley whispered, pulling his mask off, laughing when Cisco’s expression immediately dropped. “Thanks for the dance Cisquito, say hi to Barry and Caitlin for me, and call me if you want those tickets.”

Hartley didn’t really know what to do when his phone rang three days later, Cisco’s name flashing against his backdrop.


	5. Five Times the Rogues protected Hartley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for this prompt: Little scenes showing moments when each Rogue protected or comforted Hartley. Like one Rogue letting him cry into their shoulder after a tough day, patching Hartley up after a battle with The Flash, defending him against random assholes etc. Shipping wise, Len/Hartley is preferred, maybe with Mark and Axel being like brothers to Harts? Also I don't care the guy's insane, if you could have Hartley/James friendship that would be shiny. <3
> 
> Warning for Gore and canon adjacent violence.

 Shawna winced as Hartley let out a small gasp of pain, her fingers pulling back from his bruised, bloody arm for a moment. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, but Hartley had only been injured in a fight once before. He wasn’t used to injuries yet. “You’re going to be okay, Piper. I just need you to keep your arm still for me.”

 “I’m p, pretty sure I need b - better medical t -treatment than g -gauze and the sling y - you’re making,” Hartley huffed out, but his usual condescension was lost in the way he shook, gaze dropping to the floor. She didn’t think he was in shock, but she didn’t want him to go into it, either.

 “We’re taking you over to Keystone, this is just until we can get you to a doctor who won’t turn us in,” Shawna answered, keeping her tone even as she wrapped up his arm again, frowning at the gash. The Flash hadn’t meant it (he might not see the issue in unlawfully locking people up in his pipeline prison, but he didn’t seem too into injuring them for the hell of it either).

 “C-Caitlin wouldn’t,” Hartley said, gaze drifting to his arm with a look of growing horror. Right, scientist and musician. Hands mattered. “My-“

 “As far as I can tell, there’s not any nerve damage, but I need to get you to a real hospital and fast,” Shawna sighed, glancing over at the door as it suddenly slammed open. There was Len, expression blank outside the worry in his gaze. Hartley’d always been one of his favorites. “We need to take him somewhere fast, so either get me a photo of Keystone or figure something out.”

 “S.T.A.R. Labs,” Len answered with a firm nod, shaking his head when Shawna opened her mouth to protest. “I have a deal with the Flash. Besides, Dr. Snow likes him.”

 “Tolerates me,” Hartley corrected with a pained scoff. Len smiled softly at him, smoothing down his hair as Shawna grabbed both their arms and teleported her way to S.T.A.R. Labs.  She only hoped Caitlin’s soft spot for Hartley was real and not a figment of Len’s imagination.

Luckily it was, though Shawna couldn’t say she enjoyed the three weeks Hartley was in a sling, pouting in the corner and refusing everyone’s help until they forcibly carried his books for him.

* * *

 Mark wished they’d never come to this bar. It wasn’t that he was against drinking, he enjoyed knocking back a few. It was more the way Hartley stood in the corner, preening as a man twice his size and nearly twice his age leered at him.

 Which fine, if that was what Hartley liked, he should go seduce Len or Mick, or at least not some seedy asshole in a bar. His last … lover probably wasn’t the word. He had no idea if they’d slept together, but he fucking hoped not. From the little Mark knew of Hartley’s relationship with Harrison Wells (Mark still found that mess confusing), he hadn’t loved him. But boyfriend gave it a legitimacy he wanted to pretend it didn’t have.

 “Mark, we need to go over there and kill him,” Axel said suddenly, voice far too calm, though there was a manic glint to his gaze.  Mark followed his line of vision to find the man roughly grabbing Hartley by the waist.

 Hartley tried to push his hand away, but the other man was stronger than him, fingers sliding down and yep. They were going to kill him.

 Axel was ahead of him, marching towards the man with his switchblade out. Mark quickly followed, lightening bursting outside. It’d been a clear sky a second ago. “Let. Him. Go.”

 “I’m taking care of it,” Hartley sighed, still pushing inanely at the man’s hand. “Earl here was just leaving, right?”

 “Nope, think you and I need ta’ get to know each other better,” The man said, a snake like grin coming over his face as he slid his hands down to Hartley’s hips and gave them a light squeeze. Mark blinked owlishly, glancing between the man and Axel, whose switchblade was coming ever closer to him.

 “You’re an idiot,” Hartley sighed, rolling his eyes and giving an almost imperceptible nod to Mark. Showtime. Mark suddenly swung, his fist connecting with Earl’s stomach before the other man could so much as blink. Earl doubled over in pain, hands finally sliding off Hartley.

 “My turn to play,” Axel grinned leaning over the man, only for Hartley to gently grab his wrist and shake his head. “No fair, I never get to be your white knight.”

 “First of all, as cute as you all think your over-protective brother act is, I don’t need a white knight,” Hartley muttered with a scowl. Mark rolled his eyes, carefully elbowing in the stomach again as he suddenly lunged towards them both. “I can take care of myself.”

 “Of course you can, kid,” Mark snorted as Hartley took a step back, paling slightly at the sight of Earl’s bloody nose. It was amazing that he could be an evil genius and a borderline innocent at the same. “But maybe try to pick up some more respectable criminals, all the same.”

* * *

 Lisa sat next to Hartley, wondering if she should say something. He had his hands clasped tight in his lap, lips pressed into a thin line. His usual smugness was replaced with the fear and insecurity that always lurked just beneath the surface. All over a rat.

 “She’s going to be fine, Hartley,” Lisa assured him, earning a sharp glare from Hartley. She sighed, pushing a golden brown curl behind her ear. “The doctor said it was a minor illness, and she’s only three months old. That’s young for a rat.

 Well, Lisa assumed it was, she’d never had one before. Based on the slight release of tension in Hartley’s shoulders, she’d guessed right. Not that he’d ever admit it. “She’s sick, though. I’ve never – I’ve always been so careful.”

 “Hey, hey, these are things we can’t control,” Lisa said soothingly, wrapping her right arm around his shoulder without thinking about it. “People and animals we love getting sick, tragedy … love, those are all things we can’t help, Hartley.”

 “Love? Please don’t bring your unfathomable crush on Cisco Ramon into this,” Hartley scowled up at her, but he didn’t shrug away from her touch. Instead, he leaned into it a bit, glancing over at the doorway. “They’re all I have.”

 “What?” Lisa asked, turning slightly to glance down at Hartley, mouth twisting in confusion. “What about me? You think I’d be sitting here if I didn’t care about you? Believe it or not, I had better things to do.”

 Hartley scrunched up his face, and for a second Lisa honest to god thought he might cry.  But then corners of his lips turned up, gaze dropping to his lap in obvious embarrassment. “Thank you. For waiting for Romona for me.”

 “Of course, kid,” Lisa said with a soft smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly. She ignored the disgruntled “you’re two years older than me” that followed. No reason to ruin the moment.

* * *

  James protected the kids during the fight. He put himself first, granted, and his protection was a bit … bloodier than Len allowed thanks to his deal with the Flash, but didn’t always stop him.

 So when moments like now arose, where Hartley’s pipe had been knocked out of his hands and sent careening down the rooftop by whoever this masked vigilante was, He couldn’t help wanting to throw a yoyo at the back of their spine. Or their wings, whichever came first.

  Hartley, currently being held by the throat up against the wall, shook his head rapidly, wringing his hands. Aww. Kid didn’t want him to kill the birdman. It was cute when he got all moral on them.

 Too bad James wasn’t going to listen. James pulled out a yoyo swinging it back and forth in his hands, while the so-called hero rolled his eyes. Didn’t think James was a threat. Apparently the Flash didn’t share his info, what a (thankfully) selfish little hero. “You wanna play?”

 He swung the yoyo out, hitting the man in the side, and grinning as he curled over in pain as it exploded. It was only a small one, he’d probably survive. Len couldn’t be mad with him.

 Especially not when the man dropped Hartley to the ground, the boy staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re not supposed to try and kill anyone. Len said-“

 “And we don’t have to tell him about this, do we, Pipes?” James asked, wrapping one arm around the boys shoulder as he led him away the slowly dying screams of other man. Hartley was still too soft for that. Might always be. Hawkman, that was his name. His girlfriend would probably show up. Eventually.

 “Because he already knows,” Snart’s voice rang out suddenly, walking out of the shadows with Shawna in tow. “Trickster, what’ve I told you about killing? It’s too easy.”

 “He was going to kill Hartley – he has before,” James insisted, wrapping the boy closer to him even as Hartley tried to squirm away. James suspected Hartley was still afraid of him. Adorable.

 “Not in this lifetime,” Hawkman groaned out from behind them, earning a loud, high-pitched laugh from James. As though he cared about semantics when the kids were in danger.

 “The Flash is coming to rescue him, you two grab on,” Len sighed, reaching out to pull Hartley to his side. “And this isn’t over, Trickster.”

 James just smirked, because he’d memorized Len’s “no kill” lectures and couldn’t wait to parrot it back at him. Might make Hartley laugh too, distract him from the blood on his shirt.

* * *

 Len never knew what to do when someone started crying. With Lisa, it usually meant he needed to punch someone or systematically ruin their lives, but the actual comforting had never been his strong suit.

 So when he came across Hartley crying on the couch at 2 A.M., he almost walked back out of the room. But then Hartley looked up and immediately blanched, grasping around the table for his glasses. He looked less threatening without them, more vulnerable.

 Len was standing next to him in seconds, sliding down to sit next to him before he could think it through. “What or who upset you, Piper, and what do you need me to do?”

 “Harrison Wells – Eobard Thawne – is dead,” Hartley said, his scoff swallowed by a sob.

 Yeah, Len probably couldn’t fix this one, though he couldn’t stop the sigh of relief before it slipped out of his mouth. He’d never liked Wells, and he liked him less once he got wind that he’d taken advantage of Hartley when he was still young and only bittersweet instead of sour.

 Hartley scowled at him, sitting up straighter and opening his mouth, likely to tell Len off, and Len did the only he could think of. He pulled Hartley into a hug.

 Hartley froze against his shoulder for a moment, body going stiff in Len’s arms. Then he started shaking, muffled sobs slipping from his throat. Len held him, wordlessly until the other man finally stopped shaking. “You’re okay. Don’t need him anyway. Got the rogues now.”

 “I – I know,” Hartley sighed as he pulled back, rubbing his eyes for a moment, before glancing at Len softly. “But I loved him, he was like a . .  . he was a lot of things he shouldn’t have been.”

 “Trust me, I know,” Len sighed, brushing a hand across Hartley’s messy bangs thoughtlessly. Hartley flushed a bit, leaning in and – “Nope. Sorry, Piper. Not when you’re outta your mind with grief.”

 “In the morning?” Hartley challenged, lips curling into a smirk that was more adorable than sexy, though Len would be the last one to tell Hartley that.

 “In the morning,” Len allowed with a soft smile, leaning back against the couch and watching Hartley curl in on himself, small yawns escaping his lips. In a few minutes he was asleep.

 Len looked forward to when he woke up.


	6. Ease The Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for this prompt: Ah how about a pipster back rub then? Either Hartley helping James relax after a performance when his muscles are all tightly wound, or else James helping Hartley relax after something with the rogues?? :)

 I was torn between Comics and CW!Fixed!Pipster, but I went with the latter since I like to switch it up sometimes. So, AU where James Jesse is less Mark Hamill and a lot more like his confident acrobat self. Implicitly in my soulmate AU, but you don’t need to read that to understand the plot at all.

 James never liked to admit when he was hurt, preferring to pretend he was Superman. Hartley could understand (though still find it annoying) if it was during a mission or for an actual injury. His refusal to admit when he was sore from hours of exercise, less someone think he was weak, however, truly baffled Hartley.

 Hartley learned this early on in their relationship (after some truly amazing marathon sex, he might add). James refused his offer of an ice pack with a huff and pinning Hartley back down on the bed, and well. Hartley forgot James was sore for a bit. Sue him.

 Still, pointing out how sore his … boyfriend (he assumed they were there) didn’t help alleviate the problem.

 “You know, I’m good with my hands,” Hartley offered instead, watching James rub his shoulder after a particularly difficult bar routine. James raised an eyebrow, sending Hartley a bemused smile.

 “I’m aware, babe,” James said with a small laugh as Hartley rolled his eyes at the pet name. James tried different ones out all the time and never relented no matter how annoyed Hartley got. “You gotta point?”

 “I took a masseuse class in college,” Hartley answered, dropping his voice a bit. He took his glasses off and set them aside as he gave James a pointed look. James leered at him, though his gaze was still confused. “Wellness requirement.”

 “Whose wellness? The captain of the Football team? Your physics professor?” James snorted even as he pulled his shirt over his head. Hartley pretended not to notice the wince that accompionied the motion.

 “Whose to say it wasn’t all of the above?” Hartley said airily, shrugging as James narrowed his eyes a little. Hartley liked making him jealous while he still could, after the waiting game James put him through. “But no, it was an actual class. Now lie down and let me get to work.”

 “Usually I’m sayin’ that,” James murmured, even as he lied down over the couch in the corner of the base. Hartley let out a fond sigh of exasperation before leaning over him, one hand pressing over James’ back.

 He ran his hands across the muscles appreciatively, before starting to knead James’ shoulders, firm but gentle enough to avoid pain until he got to a knot. “This might hurt a bit, but you’ll like the end result.”

 “Love it when ya’ talk dirty, Hart,” James muttered with a small laugh, that turned into a short moan as Hartley pressed against the knot. “You weren’t kidding.”

 “Not this time,” Hartley said as he gave pressed against the knot again, smiling when the tension in James’ shoulder finally eased. James let out a sigh of relief as Hartley’s hands slid down his back, kneading at the skin near the base of his spine.

 “If you get all the knots out does it get to be a sexy massage?” James asked with a contented sigh. Hartley let out a surprise laugh, not having expected to be busted so quickly.

 “If you promise not to complain about this later,” Hartley answered with a laugh as he pressed his hands against another knot.

 James groaned beneath him, though it soon faded into another relieved exhale as the second knot came undone. “Promise. Now Hurry up so I can get rid of  _your_  tension.”


	7. Real Esate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ParkWest

“She’s my fiancee,” Iris insisted as she suddenly took Linda by the hand, smiling widely at the realtor. He glanced between them with a raised eyebrow, and Linda plastered a matching grin on her face.

She had no idea what Iris was playing at, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t go along with it. “That’s right, six months. We wanted to get a new place - it seems unfair to stay in mine when it wasn’t Iris’ home too.”

“Aww, sweetie,” Iris laid it on, gazing over at Linda with eyes so warm it was like being hit by the sun. Linda decided then and there she was going to milk this moment for all it was worth.

Linda leaned over and kissed Iris on the cheek, fingers lingering on the soft wool of Iris’ sweater. Behind them the realtor cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ladies, would you like to see the apartment?”

“Of course, just give us a minute?” Iris asked, giving the man one of her mega-watt grins. Taken as anyone would be, he nodded and walked into the apartment, shutting the creaking door behind him.

“Now what?” Linda asked as she let go of Iris’ arm, glancing over at her curiously. She didn’t know why Iris had invited her to this case period. Real estate scams weren’t exactly baseball.

“We investigate this building’s layout so I can come back here later tonight for my expose,” Iris told her, turning on her excitedly. Linda melted a little at the brightness in her gaze. Only Iris could be this excited over risking her life. “And then you agree to go out with me so we’ve got deniability.”

Linda was about to say they didn’t need deniability when she caught the twinkle in Iris’ eye and the mischievous curve of her lip.

Wait.

“Did you ask me to come with you so you could ask me out?” Linda laughed. Iris nodded sheepishly, and this time Linda leaned over and kissed her for real, soft and quick. “You Wests make everything so complicated.”


	8. Kiss You When It's Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the Prompt: Hartley/Cisco. "Eight Seconds - Kiss You When It's Dangerous" :)?

Cisco liked most people. He tried to see the good in everyone, even when they came off as cold or disinterested when he first met them, Cisco usually found an inner core of warmth when he got to know them. Hell, he even saw redeeming qualities in people most everyone thought were complete jerks.

So the fact that he couldn’t find anything good about Hartley Rathaway meant that the other man was a Grade A dick.

So yeah, Cisco wasn’t surprised when Hartley became a super villain. He was caught off guard by Hartley working with the rogues, though. Hartley’d never been what you’d call a people person and Captain Cold didn’t seem the type to take Hartley’s brand of annoying that well. Even with his no kill policy, Cisco couldn’t believe the other man hadn’t shot Hartley by now.

But he hadn’t, and that’s why Cisco now found himself face to face with Hartley, suit tighter than the last time Cisco saw it and a flute slid between his lips. He made an expression that Cisco imagined was supposed to be menacing, but the whole flute gimmick kind of ruined it.

“Glad to see you finally match your codename, but what are you playing at, Hartley?” Cisco asked as he took a step towards the other man, pulling himself to his full height. “If you were going to attack me or brainwash me or whatever your flute does - and trust me, I’ll figure it out - you would’ve done it by now.”

“Look at that, sometimes you aren’t as obtuse as you look,” Hartley sighed as he slipped the flute back into its holder. Cisco’s eyes were drawn to his lithe torso, before Cisco shook himself out of it. Giving Ray palmer a once over was one thing, but this was Hartley. 

“So? Then what’s your game?” Cisco asked with a groan, opening his mouth to find Hartley’s tongue slipping inside, lips soft where they met his own. Cisco froze, not sure whether to push Hartley away or kiss him back or - 

Worry about the sudden explosion that happened several feet in front of them. Oh. Hartley shrugged almost apologetically as he pulled back. “Sorry, needed a way to distract you. Also, I wouldn’t try looking across the time stream for a bit, the chapstick had power inhibitors in it.”

Cisco blinked, mouth falling open and shut a few times before he finally spoke. “And the distraction you chose was kissing me?”


	9. Crime and Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU; Snartaway. Trigger warnings for mentions of Homophobia and Child Abandonment.

The Sunday Hartley got thrown out by his parents, he felt lucky to have a garbage bag full of clothes and textbooks. He could shower at the gym before school started. As for sleeping arrangements, it was only October, not too cold to sleep outside yet. 

His parents would come to their senses before winter hit fully. Nobody needed to find out Hartley Rathaway had been disowned. 

Except that Hartley, in a rare moment of stupidity, came out at a party. He thought the public setting meant they’d avoid a scene. Instead him crying while his father screamed at him ended up on YouTube.

Suffice to say, walking the halls of Central City High Monday morning proved to be one of the worst days of his live. Hartley glanced over his shoulder to find Cisco Ramon, of all people, gazing at him with sympathy. “Keep your eyes to yourself, Cisquito. No matter what you read in the papers, you’re still not my type.”

“Trust me, I’m really, really happy about that,” Cisco snapped back, giving Hartley a look of distaste. That was better. Hartley didn’t need anyone’s pity, least of all his main rival. 

Hartley walked into class, taking his usual seat in the front row between Cisco and Caitlin. Dr. Stein stopped in front of him wincing slightly as he came to his desk. “Hartley, you’re needed in the principal’s office.”

“Why?” Hartley asked, even as his stomach sank. He knew where this was going.

“I’m not sure, but I will note the staff watches YouTube,” Stein informed him in a whisper. “And your parents made a statement in the society paper.”

“Well, luckily they came to their senses,” Hartley assured him as he stood up, plastering a bright smile across his face as he stood up. It was the same one he used at all his family’s parties. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Hartley walked the rest of the hallway, crossing his arms tight against his chest. When he got to the office, Len Snart was already sitting on the bench, legs spread out like it was his domain.

He was there often enough. 

Len Snart was a criminal, and not the run-of-the-mill teen committing vandalism. Len had been running with Mick Rory, one of the most notorious thieves in Central City (and the most notorious arsonist in the Midwest) since he was 15. He’d robbed banks, art galleries - name it, Len had been involved.

But unlike Mick, Len had never been caught and for reasons beyond Hartley (some people said it was just to protect Lisa, but she didn’t need any help in that area), he stayed in school as a result.

Hartley sat next to him, catching the curious glint in his gaze and the curve of his lip. “I take it you watched the YouTube video?” Hartley asked coolly. “Don’t worry about me, Snart. I’ve already convinced my parents -”

“Cute, but you’re lying by the skin of your teeth,” Len drawled, throwing an arm around Hartley’s shoulder. “I walk back to my base through the park, Hartley. You were hard to miss on the park bench.”

“It’s been one day, they’ll come to their senses,” Hartley said defensively, curling his arms a little tighter around his chest. “What do you care?”

“Like I said, you’re cute and Mick and I need a techie,” Len shrugged, leaning in so he could whisper in Hartley’s ear. “And between the two kids who skipped two grades, you seem a little more amoral than Cisco and a lot more desperate. So if mom and dad don’t take you back, keep me in my mind.”

“What does me being cute have to do with it?” Hartley whispered back flatly, turning to look Snart in the eyes. The other man snorted in amusement.

“Well, we’d have to share a bedroom since Lisa wouldn’t give up hers,” Len said with sharp grin. He brushed his hand down Hartley’s shoulder. “And If I’ve gotta have a roommate, I wouldn’t mind it being one I’d want to share a bed with, someday.”

“At least ask me to prom first,” Hartley scoffed, just as Mrs. Stein called out Len’s name. Len stood up with a little wave.

Two weeks later, Hartley had a new career, house, and prom date. Not too shabby for his sixteenth birthday.


	10. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for this prompt:: fluff prompt: pipster (maybe comics verse if you can but it doesn't have to be) -- either hartley doing something cute that makes james blush, or else a mistletoe/xmas themed thing?

Hartley shouldn’t be able to surprise James anymore. They’ve been friends for nearly a decade.

He wasn’t surprised when Hartley showed up to his first crime scene, days after they’d met at a Rogues meeting, all wide-eyed and polka-dotted. Or when quit the rogues and became one of Flash’s sidekicks a few years later. Or when Hartley took up with the excruciatingly boring other James, because sometimes he thought he wanted stability.

He didn’t. James knew that. Hartley had always, would always, want adventure and thrills. Sure, Hartley wanted someone to come home to, but also someone who went out to save the world or cause trouble with him in the first place. Someone like James.

Yet, in all those years of friendship and family, he’d never spent the holidays with Hartley. Half of them he’d been in jail, the other half in California. But this year James sat in Hartley’s kitchen, watching as Hartley strung up light after light, despite his place being too small to hold that many. “This has to be a fire hazard.”

“Since when does James Jesse worry about a fire hazard?” Hartley said as he ran another set of lights over James’ head, the red, green, and yellow lights twinkling over him. He snorted softly. “Get into the holiday spirit, James.”

“Not my style, I celebrate everyday,” James answered with an easy shrug. Hartley walked past him, reaching down to open yet another box, this one filled with various pieces of greenery. It was getting a little too merry in here for his taste.

“Of course you do, here hang this over the doorway, will you?” Hartley asked, shoving one of the green things into his hand. This one had little red berries on it. Holly maybe?

James sighed and pulled himself up from the couch. He walked across the apartment to the door, reaching up to attach it to the tiny hook overhead. “Why do you want this in the doorway? Wouldna wreath or some bells be more Christmasy?”

“No,” Hartley called as he crossed the room until he was standing in front of James, a playful smile on his face as he looked up at him. “That’s mistletoe, you idiot.”

James opened his mouth in affront, only to have Hartley lean up and kiss him softly on the lips, one hand pressing against his shoulder. It was over before James could kiss back or push him away, leaving him there with flushed cheeks. “What the hell, Hartley?”

“I thought the reason you weren’t coming around as much was because you thought you weren’t my favorite James anymore,” Hartley admitted, smile a little more cautious now. “If I was wrong, we can pretend –“

“Need to test your theory more,” James cut him off, pressing his lips against Hartley’s own again. It was a just the right amount of merry after all.


	11. Don't Buy Me a Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the prompt: I don't know if you're still taking prompts, but hartmon in which they met before they started working at STAR Labs?

Cisco sighed, wondering why he’d come to this bar for the fifth time that night. He’d wanted to grab a drink to celebrate getting a job at STAR Labs, but he didn’t know anyone in this part of town, and his parents and brother all bailed on him. So much for how proud they all were of him.

So now he sat here, in what was supposed to be one of the nicest bars in Central City, surrounded by men who were at least twice his age. He probably should’ve just gone to a dive bar. They were more his style and he could’ve played darts. 

There was one man his age though, sat in the corner with a black sweater and parted lips, peering at an older man over his glasses. Said older man was leering at him, pressing him into the wall. Well, so much for that. Except then he saw the younger man shake his head, glancing around desperately out of the corner of his eye.

Oh. His lips weren’t parted out of attraction, but out of fear. Well, fuck. Cisco marched over to the corner of the room with no plan, except to maybe try and tackle the other man if need be.

Cisco was … not at all stronger than he looked, but he had the element of surprise on his side.

“Look, I appreciate your neandrathal flirting methods, but I have a boyfriend,” the young man said, voice pinched. Cisco suddenly knew what to do.

“Yes, he does, and I’ve been looking for him all night,” Cisco called loudly as he pushed between them, catching the young man’s eye before kissing him on the cheek. “Where’ve you been, babe?”

“I was trying to get another glass of wine when Earl here decided to give me some unwanted company,” The younger man answered airily, while Earl narrowed his eyes. Cisco wondered why he had to try and rescue the dude with a death wish. “But now that you’re here, I think I’ll be going.”

“Tell your boyfriend that if he doesn’t want to get hit on, he shouldn’t wear such tight pants,” Earl spat out before walking away. Next to him, the other man sagged in relief.

“Thank you, though I would’ve been fine,” He said, tone clipped but genuine somehow. “Hartley Rathaway.”

He held out his hand and Cisco took it, giving him a small handshake. “Cisco Ramon. Did you find this place on Yelp! too?”

“No, I come here regularly, most of their clientele tends to be less … aggressive than Earl,” Hartley sighed as he leaned against the table. “But you’re cute enough, I’m sure you’ll find someone to talk to.”

“What about you?” Cisco pointed out with a small, admittedly awkward laugh. Up close, Hartley was cute. “We’re the only ones here under fifty who don’t seem like jerks so –“

“I imagine you’d change your mind on me being a jerk if I did agree to talk to you, but I came here with a purpose, and you’re not exactly my type,” Hartley said with a small shrug. “I’ll cover your tab for the night, and we’ll consider it even, okay?”

“Oookay. What is your type then, middle-aged assholes who think they’re better than everyone else?” Cisco huffed out, not caring that he was being rude for a moment. He had just been frostily rejected by the dude he saved, and he was a little drunk. Actually, Cisco could already tell he’d feel bad in the morning.

“Precisely,” Hartley answered with a small shrug as he got up, pushing past Cisco before Cisco could apologize. Cisco wouldn’t understand exactly who Hartley’s type referred to for months, right around the time he got a hand through his stomach.


	12. Double the Trouble, Double the Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snartaway and Peek-A-Gold double date?

It was rare for Len to like Lisa’s dates and vice versa, so that he liked Shawna and she (somehow) liked Hartley had initially been a relief.

Things only went downhill when Shawna and Hartley met for the first time at the base.

It wasn’t that Shawna and Hartley hated each other. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, they immediately bonded over a mutual history of bad exes and love of good music and Snart siblings. At first, the lack of in fighting had been nice. Then had come the shared looks and eye rolls when Len and Lisa said something, the whispered conversations, the shared secrets. 

They were a team, and their mission was to get the Snarts to do whatever they wanted. And they were both brilliant and gorgeous, so they succeeded every time.

And that was how Lisa and Len were forced on a double date at some hole in the wall bar to listen a hipster band Len had never heard of. Now that he was hearing them, he was positive Hartley could play the flute better. “How much longer is their set.”

“Two hours, but if you stop asking I’ll make it up to you later,” Hartley said, fluttering his eyelashes meaningfully. Behind them, Lisa made a gagging motion with her hand.

“Lenny is still my brother, Hart,” Lisa sighed, curling her fingers a little tighter into Shawna’s shoulder, like she was using her as a lifeline. “So please don’t take that sentence any farther.”

“But Lisa, I wanted to hear how it ended,” Len sighed, running a hand down Hartley’s arm and then up to his neck, letting his palm rest against the short hairs there. “If they’re gonna have fun, so should we.”

“Except that’s only fun for you,” Shawna drawled, rolling her eyes a little as she pulled Lisa closer to her, the other woman cuddling tight against Shawna’s side. “So what’d you suggest we do?”

“We’re not pulling a heist,” Hartley interrupted as he glanced between them warily. Then, shaking his head, he let out a small sigh. “We can leave in an hour if both of you promise not to be reckless.”

“You’re more reckless than any of us, sweetheart,” Lisa laughed, deep and throaty, Shawna giggling as well. Len couldn’t stop a small snicker slipping through his own lips, even with Hartley glaring up at him. 

He’d pay for that later, and Len honestly couldn’t wait.


	13. Crack a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pipster, in that period after FBI agent!James recruited Hartley and Mick to his team. Warning for attempts at timelining.
> 
> Comics!Verse - pre New 52.

When they’d been in the rogues, which felt like a century ago (even though it had only been five years) Hartley had always been the one making him feel better. But now things were different. 

Since Hartley’d been framed for his parents and nearly broke, he’d been … quiet. Empty. He refused to call the other James, never watched the news, didn’t ask about what James and Mick were working on, barely even listened to music. It was like he was a zombie.

Honestly, James didn’t need that on top of trying to lock Cold up for good.

And Hartley was his best friend, his oldest friend. Seeing him like this, well. It hurt. So James found himself climbing onto the exercise bars in his base, glancing down at Hartley with a small, nervous smile. “Hart, it’s pretty quiet in here. Your rats are startin’ to get sad.”

“I sent them away, James,” Hartley answered with a tone that implied he wanted James to leave too. No chance of that. 

“I know you can bring them back, though,” James pointed out as he leaned forward, until he was just hanging above Hartley, faces only inches away from his friend’s. “And there are people you could call back -”

Hartley looked up at him, gaze heavy and tired and making him look older and younger at the same time. “Do you think I didn’t try to call him before I went to Mick Rory?”

“Oh,” James muttered, glancing down. He maybe hadn’t thought that one through. It made sense, he’d go to his boyfriend after his superhero friend and … Wait. “But you called me first, right? Not other James?”

Hartley looked down, shaking his head. James felt his heart sink. He’d said the wrong thing again, and now Hartley was - Wait. Hartley’s shoulders were shaking -

“Have I entered an alternate universe, or did you just crack a smile at me?” James asked slowly, eyes wide as Hartley glanced up at him with a wide grin. His shoulders shook from laughter, not tears. Oh. “You jerk.”

“Takes one to know one,” Hartley teased back, standing up so he and James were eye to eye. He sobered after a moment, smile fading to something smaller and softer. “And don’t be jealous, You were my first call. Even before Wally.”

“Well. Good,” James huffed, and in another life, he’d lean in now, kiss Hartley. Take the chance he’d thought about since they were nineteen year old idiots. Instead he ruffled his friend’s hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Hartley didn’t answer him, but the small grin on his face was enough for James.


	14. College Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the prompt: College au Hartley crushing on Cisco?
> 
> Setting: Dorms Freshman year (This didn’t really need one of these but it’s how I do read mores).

Despite what Linda Park insisted, Hartley Rathaway did not have a crush on Cisco Ramon. The mere idea was laughable. His roommate was obnoxious. He wore loud, ugly T-shirts and had hair to his shoulders because he didn’t know how to look professional. His taste in music was atrocious and he piled comic books across their room like they actually counted as literature.

Even worse, he constantly dragged his friends over because their film education ‘wasn’t complete unless they saw Plan 9 From Outer Space’, which Hartley sincerely doubted. And then he’d try to get Hartley to join in, because apparently Hartley must get bored studying all the time. Even Cisco got bored of physics and Hartley would burn out if he didn’t just “chill”.

But then Cisco wasn’t there on a full-ride scholarship because his parents disowned him, so Hartley didn’t think he had room to judge.

Not that Cisco, or anyone else, knew that.

Didn’t mean Hartley couldn’t be annoyed at them for it.

So no, the fact that Hartley talked about Cisco all the time, argued about physics with him for hours, let the other boy drag him to atrocious frat parties when he and his friends needed a DD, and let him sit on his bed when they watched Star Trek (even Hartley had his guilty pleasures) didn’t mean he liked Cisco.

All it meant was that he was annoyed by him the most, grudgingly acknowledged his genius, cared enough about his well-being not to let him get alcohol poisoning, and was too lazy to move the TV.

But Hartley have a crush on Cisco? Well, the very idea made Hartley so angry that his face got hot, cheeks flushing in anger while Linda giggled next to him. He couldn’t wait to bring up Wally West.


	15. Don't Call Me Cute (Because Then I Have to Kiss You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for this prompt: how about some snartaway fluff?
> 
> Setting: Post Rogues Formation, a few weeks after Hartley joins. Mostly canon adjacent I think?

Leonard Snart hadn’t planned on falling for Hartley Rathaway when he recruited him to be the rogue’s techie. The kid was cute in a slender, baby-faced way, but Len didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

Besides, Hartley’s obsession with Wells screamed spurned lover, and whether that was actually the case or not, Len wasn’t about to get in the middle of it.

But then one night Hartley had come to his door, hair messy and eyes blown, and well, one thing led to another. Len was only human, after all. And as once turned into twice and then every other night, Len noticed things.

He was a detail-oriented man, after all. It was hard not to notice the way Hartley ducked his head every time he genuinely smiled, as though he was embarrassed about being happy. Or the way he was so invested in baseball that he wouldn’t let anyone speak during the game, even as he corrected every play.

And then there was the way Hartley looked up at him through his eyelashes every time Len took his glasses off, blinking owlishly. Or the way he scrunched his nose every time someone played music he didn’t like. Or the way his eyes lit up every time someone asked him about science.

Once Len noticed those things about Hartley, it was hard not to feel a certain affection for him. Hartley was, for lack of a better word, cute. Though telling him that would only piss the other man off.

“You’re adorable,” Len told him instead one day when Hartley had his head in Len’s lap, rambling about something with water molecules. Len didn’t understand. He figured synonyms conveyed the same meaning.

He’d figured he was right by the way Hartley scrunched up his nose, eyes narrowing. “Adorable is for pets. I’m not a cat, Len.”

“You act like one,” Len whispered as he brushed a hand through Hartley’s hair. Hartley huffed at him, still pouting. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it. I swear, sometimes you’re just as frig-“

Hartley shifted up, kissing Len softly while his hands hugged his torso for support. When he broke the kiss, his gaze was soft and open. “And you’re a nerd.”

And that, Len decided, deserved a “Shut up” kiss of it’s own.


	16. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for the prompt: Hartley & Cisco + 4??
> 
> Setting: Either post redemption arc or in an AU where Hartley never left STAR Labs.

“You’re calculations are wrong,” Hartley told him without even glancing up from his own work on his weaponized flute, or whatever pretentious bullshit he’d come up with this week. At least this one fit his codename, unlike the stupid gloves. Though Cisco has liked the miniature flute design on them, it was a nice touch.

“How would you possibly know?” Cisco muttered, rolling his eyes. There was a beat, where Hartley didn’t say anything. Cisco thought maybe, just this once, Hartley was going to let something drop.

Then Hartley sauntered over, leaning over Cisco’s shoulder and looking over his math. Wordlessly. Cisco wasn’t used to silence, especially not with Hartley who couldn’t stand it most of the time (Not in the sense that he deigned to speak to anyone of course, but there was usually music on in his corner of the lab) and it made him fidget.

“You missed a decimal here,” Hartley finally muttered, slim fingers brushing against Cisco’s palm as he did. Cisco ignored the goosebumps that gave him and reminded himself that he didn’t like Hartley Rathaway. At all.

“I was about to add it, if you want to get over yourself for five minutes,” Cisco snorted softly, brushing Hartley’s hand away and grabbing the pen himself. Hartley looked away, a slight flush to his face. Huh, now that was different.

“you could get over me instead,” Hartley answered, the flush still there though his tone was steady. Cisco turned around in his chair glancing up at Hartley with wide eyes. Hartley pulled at his tie slightly, glancing away from Cisco. “I’m flirting with you.”

“Oh. Well, you’re not very good at it,” Cisco said before he could stop himself, and then winced a little. No matter how he might feel about Hartley, that wasn’t called for.

“We all have our weak spots,” Hartley sighed, finally glancing back at him. He awkwardly jammed his hands in his pocket, giving Cisco an unsure smile. Hartley looked … cute, if Cisco was honest. Cisco waited for the usual insult, but this time it didn’t come.

“Are you trying to be nice?” Cisco blurted out again, because yeah, he didn’t have much of a filter when it came to Hartley. “I mean, you are. You’re being nice. You should try that more.”

“Right more of being nice, less flirting,” Hartley scoffed, turning on his heel. Before he could stop himself, Cisco reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder. Hartley turned back around, this time so their faces were only a few inches away from each other. “Cisco?”

“Nah, keep up the flirting, you need practice,” Cisco told him with a wide grin, not quit resisting the urge to run his hand down Hartley’s arm before he pulled away.


	17. The Captain and The Singer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill for This Prompt: Hartley + Your Choice + 17
> 
> Setting: Post Rogues’ formation and established FWB relationship.

Len sauntered into the Rogue’s base with a smirk, glancing around the room like it was his kingdom. The heist had gone off without a hitch, and he’d even gotten to tease Barry until the younger man had sped off in a huff, face as red as his suit.

Yes, everything had gone swimmingly, and now Len couldn’t wait to hear Hartley tell him everything he’d done wrong.

See, it’d become a game of sorts whenever Len decided a mission was too dangerous for Hartley to come on. It wasn’t sentimental because they were hooking up; Hartley’s brain was just a lot more valuable than his flute.

But Hartley was still miffed every time Len insisted he stay behind, so he’d taken to criticizing Len as punishment. Len, in turn, had taken to trying to fluster Hartley into losing his train of thought and the pushing him against the nearest wall.

Really, there were no losers here.

However, not seeing Hartley to push up against anything, Len walked past the main room into the kitchen, stopping dead when a sweet voice filled the air.

Len was rarely surprised by anything anymore, but Hartley singing Dolly Parton was a shock. That Hartley was doing it really well was even more surprising.

Hartley’s voice swelled with the music, informing Len he’d be “just fine and dandy” as he wrapped his hands even tighter around his wooden spoon.

Len couldn’t stop the surprised bark of laughter that escaped his throat. Hartley’s voice cut off mid-note, spoon clattering to the marble countertop. He turned on his heel, glancing over at Len with wide eyes. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Len said casually as he sauntered over, running one hand down the back of Hartley’s neck possessively. “What else is in your repertoire?”

“First of all, you can’t tell anyone about this,” Hartley warned him with a tight glare as he turned around so they were facing each other. Len pressed his thumb against the bottom of Hartley’s lips, spreading his hand across his cheek. “Second of all –“

“Something from Disney maybe? Or some Taylor Swift?” Len suggested teasingly as Hartley glared up at him, cheeks flushing. Len slid his hand down his cheek and curled it around Hartley’s neck, grinning as he leaned in so there were mere inches between them. He reached up and pulled Hartley’s glasses off, setting them on the table by the spoon. “What about mus-“

“Shut up,” Hartley growled, but without Hartley’s glasses, his death glare looked more like a pout, so the affect was ruined.

“Make me,” Len breathed out with a smirk. Hartley rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh.

“You’re ridiculous, and you did at least three things wrong during the heist –“ Hartley started, but he never finished the sentence, Len capturing his mouth with his own. Pushing him up against the countertop might be even more fun than the wall.


End file.
